Devour (Twisted Metamorphosis #1)

Chapter Twelve

“You’re still here, man?” Anton Stevens asked Camden, his boisterous voice playing through my phone’s speaker.

“Yeah, I need to get my report done for Jacobs. Need to get it to him in the morning.”

Oh, Camden. My perfect, hard worker.

“It’s seven thirty! Finish that shit tomorrow, Cam!” There was a quick pause before Anton continued. “I only came back up here because I forgot this. Name and address for this perfume shop. My sister is picky and her birthday is tomorrow. Only shop in the nearest fifty miles that has this shit.”

“Oh, yikes. Good thing you came back for that,” Camden said. His friendly tone was forced, definitely not genuine.

“Actually, hey Cam, the team is going to go for burgers and brews at this place over on Twenty-First Street. You should come along! They have really good bacon cheeseburgers and a great bar. You in?”

“Uhh, sure. Thanks for the invitation, Stevens.” The rustling sounds of things being shuffled around told me Camden began to pick up his things on his desk.

“Nah, call me Anton. I’m not big on that formal shit.”

Sitting in my car, parked on the curb outside the FBI's field office, I watched the light source in the third-floor window turn off. As the light turned off, the overwhelming guilt of placing a wire on Camden was gnawing at the back of my mind.

“You did the right thing,” my darkness said from the passenger seat.

“It doesn’t feel that way,” I sighed.

“Because you’re getting too emotionally involved. You. Can’t. Be. Reckless.” Every period was a clap from my darkness, trying to emphasize her point. She wasn’t wrong, but Camden is special. I can’t have a complete vision without him.

Before leaving my office to help autopsy Connor Scott’s body, I adjusted his tie, and discreetly placed a small wireless microphone in the knot of the tie. Leaning back in the driver’s seat, I leaned into the headrest and closed my eyes.

“This obsession will ruin you—ruin us,” my darkness crossed her arms sitting next to me, looking at the now dark window. “What are you doing here, anyway? You’re already stalking the kid.”

“My instincts were right. I knew Camden would be here, working on his report and listening to Doctor Arellano's voice recording. My Camden probably has it memorized by now.”

“Your Camden? Do you hear yourself?”

“There’s nothing wrong with having interests outside of work.” I couldn't help but smile as I waited for Anton and Camden to emerge from the office’s parking lot.

“Remind me why we're doing this again? Don't we have better things to do? Like, oh yeah, get rid of the senator?!” My darkness roared at me.

“I'm well aware of what I need to do. Remember, the timing has to be right. The Norfolk Butcher needs to drop his next victim, so I know how to leave the body. I'm supposed to copy him to cover our tracks,” I countered, turning on my car as Anton's motorcycle exited the parking lot, followed by Camden's Mustang.

“I thought the point was to save the innocents. Not to wait until they die first so you know how to dispose of your scraps.” My darkness rolled her eyes as I pulled away from the curb, following them onto the main highway.

“That's not it at all, and you know it. The Norfolk Butcher drops his kills once every other day for ten days. Today is his ‘off day.’” He already killed his victim, it's just a matter of time until—” I interrupted myself by speeding through an almost red light to keep up. “Until he dumps the body.”

Not wanting Camden to notice I was following him, I slowed down a bit to give our cars some distance.

“How ridiculous. I’m a fucking idiot,” Camden grumbled to himself, catching me off guard. I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my lips as I imagined how his brows pinched together when he was frustrated, the way his pupils dilated, the way his breath got ragged, hot, and heavy.

“I’m not sure why you’re trying so hard to keep up when you know where they’re going.” My darkness interrupted my thoughts as we approached another red light.

In my rearview mirror, I saw Agent Maria Santos pull up behind me, and switch to the next lane over. As the light turned green, I slowed behind Camden, allowing her to merge in and follow Camden to the bar.

After a few more turns, they entered the parking lot of the bar, and I pulled up to a vacant spot on the curb with the perfect view of the front door.

I could hear Camden shuffling around in his car, and the snap popped open on his holster. His breathing started to sound like anxious, shaky breaths as his car door opened.

He knew someone was following him.

“Come on, Sullivan. First rounds on me,” Agent Santos said, and I could hear Camden release a breath he was holding.

He’s on edge—perfect.

My eyes found Camden and his trench coat walking with Agent Santos toward the front door of the bar. My anticipation was building, and I was buzzing with energy. Reaching a shaky hand into my glove compartment, I pulled out my tablet and powered it on. With a few taps, I brought up the security cameras of the bar, earning a scoff from my darkness.

Camden looked beyond uncomfortable. He was picking his cuticles and looking around for all his exits.

“You good, Cam?” Anton asked, and I watched as he hung a friendly arm around his shoulders. Camden didn’t flinch. That’s great; he feels safe with Anton.

“Y-you know, I should just… just go. I didn't get a chance to change. I look like, you know—”

“A cop? Look around, man. This place is full of cops and firefighters. This bar specifically caters to first responders.”

Some tension seemed to leave Camden’s body as his shoulders relaxed. Pulling my legs onto my seat and getting comfortable, I leaned on the driver’s side door, watching the cameras on my tablet that was now propped up on my steering wheel.

Camden, Anton and Santos sat around a circular, bar-height table and while Anton was scanning a menu, Camden was looking around the room in wonder. His eyes studied everything around him, and I noticed he has a little tick of movement in his eyebrow when he finds something interesting.

“Agents, can I get you something to drink while you wait for the rest of your group?” a waitress asked as she beamed at Anton.

“I’ll take an IPA on draft, please,” Agent Santos said. “Let me guess, Anton wants—”

“Blended strawberry margarita; hold the salt,” Anton interrupted.

“Yep. Like always,” I chuckled out loud, shaking my head.

“How about you, hun?” The waitress turned to Camden.

“I, um, yeah, sorry. Can I just—”

“He’ll take a whiskey, neat. Make it Irish and a double,” Evan Matthews said, draping an arm around Camden’s shoulders. Camden visibly relaxed again, seeing his best friend.

“Well, fuck me. The BAU got you to go to the bar, but you’d never come with us. Good to see you here, man. You’ll love this place; the burgers are the best.” Evan laughed, and Camden smiled a shy smile.

“Matthews,” Agent Santos said flatly, rolling her eyes.

“Santos,” Evan smirked.

“This is Anton Stevens,” Camden said, as Anton reached an arm across the table.

“Good to meet you, man. Evan Matthews, Organized Crime Unit.”

“Ah, yes, I’ve heard of you. Maria’s old partner before she came to the BAU,” Anton said before Evan’s attention shifted to the table behind them.

“That’s my cue. Food time! Nice to meet you, Stevens. Cam, don’t forget the fight tomorrow!” Evan returned to his table and finished off his drink.

“I can’t believe you’re friends with that idiot,” Santos said, rolling her eyes dramatically.

“Alrighty, here we go.” The waitress dropped off everyone’s drinks, and I bit my lip in anticipation—I wanted to see Camden’s lips close around the glass. See the way his tongue licks his lips after to soothe the burn of the whiskey.

“To Cam! Welcome to the BAU!” Anton said, and they clinked their glasses together.

“To Cam!” Santos repeated.

Shortly after their toast, the rest of the team followed one of the lab techs toward their table.

“There’s the rest of the group! Let’s pull those next two tables together,” the waitress said as Camden shot up from his stool.

“I’ll help,” he said, jumping into action to help the server. They pulled the tables together and the other agents pulled a chair up to take a seat.

“Thanks, hun!” the waitress said with a friendly smile.

“Heya Camden!” Erik Nichols said, taking the seat next to him. “How was the first day with Doctor Lawson?”

My eyebrow arched in anticipation of his answer.

“Very informative. She really is quite remarkable.”

“Yeah, she’s something else. I can only imagine going through that much fucking medical school. What do you think of this place?” He motioned around the room.

“I don’t go out much, so this is a lot. But, I do like the ambiance; the steampunk theme is pretty neat,” Camden replied, taking another sip of whiskey, finishing it off.

“Their burgers are to die for,” he said while getting the server’s attention with a finger in the air, then pointing at Camden. “Next one’s on me. Welcome to the team, Camden.”

“I appreciate it, thank you, Nichols.”

“Nah, man. Erik! We’re a casual bunch.” Nichols said with a huge grin.

My eyes found the image of a filthy looking red-haired woman and my feet shot down toward the floor from the seat and I scooped my heels back on. Something was off about this woman, and I was on high alert.

“What do you think you’re doing? Where are you going?” My darkness tried getting my attention, but everything was muted, muffled in my mind as I saw that stupid cunt dragged a disgusting finger down Camden’s arm, pressing her body onto his side as he sat on the stool, visibly uncomfortable.

I locked the screen of my tablet and shoved it roughly back into the glove compartment, and reached for my black pouch before slamming it shut. Unzipping my black pouch, I removed one capped and loaded syringe and tucked it gently in the pocket of my coat. Tucking the pouch under my seat, I stopped the audio from my phone and tucked it in the other coat pocket as I exited my car.

I was moving on autopilot, fueled by rage and utter abhorrence—the audacity of this insignificant, unworthy bitch.

She touched my Camden. He is mine. MINE. No one fucking touches what’s mine.

Taking a deep breath, I breathed in my darkness. Absorbing her spirit into my body, embracing my rage, my antipathy, letting it seep into my veins until it devoured me completely. Everything was cloudy, muffled in my mind, but I was clear, sharp in purpose.

Stalking toward the back door of the bar, I scanned my memories for any surveillance cameras back here, and the lone camera was facing the parking lot, but not the alley.

“Don’t fucking come back here, Trish, do you understand?” I heard a man yell into the alley. The sounds of feet shuffling and a door slamming guided my body in that direction.

Turning the corner, I saw her. Trish. She was digging through her Birkin bag, and grumbling obscenities to herself.

“Stupid fucking cops.”

“You poor, poor thing. Tossed into the alley like the trash you are,” I spat, forcing her eyes to snap up toward mine. I was standing in the shadows, only my blood red lipstick visible, with my hands folded demurely in front of me.

“Yeah? What do you know, huh? Creepy bitch standing in the shadows. What? Too afraid to show your face to someone with…” She eyed me up and down dramatically. “Clearly better taste than you?”

A wicked chuckle danced from my throat as I stalked closer to her while she returned her attention to the contents of her Birkin Bag.

“Poor, poor Trish. Flaunting your expensive bag, your fake tits, fake hair, trying to find a good, hard-working man to take care of you? Buy you things? You strut around with this false confidence, when in reality, you’re broken beyond repair.” I circled around her, and she froze with her hand still in her bag. Hot, angry tears streamed down her face as I continued. “What is it you’re after with these men, hmm? I bet these big, strong police officers have great life insurance policies…”

“Y-you don’t know… You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, lady.” She visibly shivered in her too small tank top and low cut jeans, which were doing absolutely nothing to keep her warm in the cold Virginia night air.

Reaching into my coat pocket, my fingers closed around my syringe. With my thumb, I flicked off the cap, and stood in front of her.

“How about you back the fuck away from me before I—”

I interrupted her by slamming my syringe with an underhand grip into her neck and quickly depressing the plunger with my thumb.

“Good night, Trish.”

After viciously ripping the syringe out of her neck, I recapped it and placed it back in my pocket. Her eyes were wide with fear as she stumbled backwards toward the wall of the bar. Her ankles wobbled back and forth in her patent leather pumps as she fought to stay awake. Taking a few steps toward her, I saw the light in her eyes snuff out as she lost consciousness. Pushing her backwards by her forehead, she slammed harshly into the wall, sliding down and falling to the ground between a dumpster and a pile of trash bags.

“Right where you belong,” I spat as I stood tall, observing her passed out body.

The sound of the front door of the bar being forced open refocused me, and I left Trish amongst the trash where she belonged and turned to go to Camden.

“Don’t worry, Trish. I’ll be back for you shortly.”

Before emerging from the dark alley, I flexed my fingers on both hands and cracked my neck back and forth. I took a deep, grounding breath, allowing my darkness to evacuate my body on my long exhale, as if I was breathing out smoke. I wasn’t ready for Camden or Evan Matthews to see my darkness.

I turned the corner just in time to see Camden slide down to the ground, his hands gripping his hair again.

“Fuck! Do you need EMS?” Evan asked Camden as he kneeled down next to him.

“Agent Sullivan?” I asked, rushing to his side.

“H-H-Hel…”

“Doctor Lawson? I'm not sure what to do. I've never seen him this bad before, I—” Evan stammered.

“Let me,” I interrupted, and Evan stood up, taking a few steps back. “Camden?” I kneeled in front of him on the cement and placed my hands over his, encouraging him to release his hair.

“Camden, we need to let go now, okay? You're safe, love. You're safe,” I whispered, guiding his hands to his lap.

“My chest…hurts…s-so bad…” Camden cried, slumping forward into my arms.

“Do I need to call for medical?” Evan asked, concerned.

“No, I will handle it; he's had an episode. You're Evan Matthews, yes?” I asked, trying to remain calm.

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Did anything like this happen when you were roommates at the FBI academy?” I asked, cradling Camden’s head to my chest and stroking his hair gently.

“Yeah, once before, but it was because his father drunkenly called him—set him off pretty bad. Something similar to this happened, and he slept for two days. I know he has had some trauma, but I've never seen it like this.”

“Doctor Lawson? What's going on? Is Sullivan alright?” Anton Stevens asked, approaching us.

“He's lost consciousness, Stevens, but he'll be alright. I'll be taking him home. None of this leaves this parking lot. Do you understand?” I commanded, my brow pinched in anger.

“Of course, Doctor. I don't know what that bitch did to him, and when I find her, I'll arrest her for assault on a Federal Agent.”

“What bitch? What happened?” I asked.

“Just some badge bunny trying to feel up on Camden,” Anton said with a scoff.

“Yeah, man. I'll keep an eye out on my end, too. I'd be happy to slap cuffs on that stupid cunt.” Evan scoffed.

“Yes, of course,” Anton said, annoyed.

“Please, Stevens. We can't let Jacobs know about this. We need him on this case. We need his skills, you know we do.”

“Yes, I know. Fuck!” Anton began to pace with his hands on his hips. “Doctor, please keep an eye on him. If he reacted like this to some trashy nympho… I'm concerned about what focusing on our case will do to him.”

“He's too important. I'll make sure his psyche returns to normal.” I promised as Camden shivered in my arms, regaining consciousness.

“D-Doctor?” he mumbled, rushing and stumbling to stand.

“Camden. Are you alright?” I asked, accepting Evan’s hand to help me off the ground.

“Y-yeah, embarrassed mainly.” Camden said, leaning on his car.

“Hey, Cam, all this,” Anton said, gesturing around the four of us. “It all stays between us. Not one word leaves this circle here.”

“I, yeah, I appreciate that. I should just head home and—”

“You're not driving, Cam. Nuh-uh. I’ll take Vera and park her at the field office. I got a ride from one of the guys from my unit, anyway. My car is still at work,” Evan said, bending over to pick up Camden’s keys off the ground.

“That is a great idea. I will take you home, Camden,” I offered with a gentle smile.

“Good plan. See you tomorrow, yeah? Text me if you need anything.” Anton handed Camden one of his business cards. “See you tomorrow. At least tomorrow is fucking Friday, am I right?” Anton chuckled and walked back into the bar.

“If there's one fuck…fucking scratch, Matthews,” Camden groaned.

“Yeah, yeah, you'll drag my soul to hell and devour my first-born. I get it.” Evan chuckled and removed the car key from the key ring, handing Camden the keys to his apartment.

“May I see the car key for a moment, Agent?” I asked Evan. With a nod, he handed me Camden’s car key.

Circling around the front of Camden’s car, I entered the passenger side, unlocking his glove compartment, gathering his notebooks, file, and voice recorder. I knew he would want to finish his report after he rests. After closing everything back up, I handed Evan the key again, thanking him with a nod.

“Come, Camden. I'm parked at the curb. Let’s get you home.”

He nodded and offered me a shaky elbow. Linking my hand in the crook of his arm, I let him lead me toward my car.

“So, Vera, huh?” I asked, and Camden audibly swallowed a lump in his throat.

“Y-yeah.”

“Oh, come now, Camden. Don’t be embarrassed. It’s common for car owners to name their prized possession.” I said, releasing Camden’s arm to reach into my pocket for my keys.

Unlocking my car with the key fob, I motioned for Camden to enter through the passenger door. I walked around the front of my car and entered through the driver’s side, reaching to place his things on the back seat.

Camden was shivering, so I turned on my car and reached over to adjust the vent on his side toward him, and turned on the seat warmer. Cranking up the heater, he buckled his seatbelt and closed his eyes.

“Th-thank you, D-Doctor,” he stuttered before drifting off to sleep.

“Camden?” I asked, nudging him, testing how deeply he was sleeping. He didn’t budge. His soft, deep breathing let me know he was in a deep sleep.

Perfect.

I drove slowly away from the curb, turning into the alley to pick up my trash. Keeping the car running, I stopped the car and popped the trunk open. Getting out of the car, I opened the trunk, making sure my pre-laid black plastic lining was in place before finding Trish with the trash.

She was still knocked out from the sedatives. This would be more difficult to move her dead weight.

“Remind me what the fuck you are doing? You already have a body to dump for the next Butcher murder.”

“This one is different, it’s—”

“Personal. You’re not supposed to let this get personal!” My darkness interrupted me, throwing her hands up in the air as I stood in front of Trish’s body, trying to figure out how to get her in the car.

Grabbing her now dirty Birkin bag, I tossed it into my plastic-lined trunk and pulled Trish up by her arm to a sitting position.

“Don’t break a heel, you imbecile.” My darkness hissed, dissipating into a black smoke and floating away. Rolling my eyes, I kneeled into a squat in front of Trish.

Draping her arm over my shoulder, I held her tight with one hand gripping her wrist over my shoulder, and with my other arm holding onto the waistband of her jeans. After taking a deep breath, I stood from my squat position, my ankles slightly wobbling in my heels, but I managed to stand with Trish. Dragging her toward the trunk, I let go of her so she fell inside with her feet hanging out.

I scooped her feet and legs into the car and picked up her heels that had fallen off, tossing them inside and slamming the door shut. Dusting my hands off, I sat in the driver’s seat again next to a still sleeping Camden, and drove through the dark alley and onto the main street, heading toward his apartment.